Текст книги "Seth"

Автор книги: Jo Raven

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

I disconnect the call and slide down the wall until my ass hits the concrete sidewalk. Fucking awesome.

Hell if that didn’t break me up all over again.

Chapter Eighteen

Manon

The day goes by in a blur, as I run from class to class, and it’s all interesting and kind of stressful, but my mind is elsewhere.

All I can see is a pair of warm, dark eyes, a wicked smile, an inked body sprawled on my bed. All I can hear is his deep voice, whispering my name. And I can feel the pain of his past through the cracks that he allows to show in his armor.

Somehow it all draws me in, the combination of his strength, his gruff sexiness and the vulnerability behind the handsome façade, in ways I never thought possible. Not even sure anymore what it was I felt, or thought I felt for Fred, because it’s nowhere near as strong and deep as what I’m feeling for Seth.

My body needs him. My mind seeks him. Being away from him even for a few hours hurts.

This is crazy.

How did I ever think I wanted Fred that way? Can’t imagine it now. I liked Fred, but the thought of kissing him or touching him? Makes me feel slightly sick.

I need to come clean with Seth about what happened with Fred—what happened and what didn’t, and all these tangled feelings and thoughts.

But I’m scared. Seth probably doesn’t feel that way about me. I mean, the few times I tried telling him, showing him, he just shut down and changed the topic. Told me this doesn’t mean anything.

Jeez, Manon.

Can’t imagine kissing, touching any other guy. Being with anyone else. He was right: whenever I close my eyes, it’s him I see, him I feel.

I need to fight this attraction, these feelings. Maybe it’s all because I was lonely, and scared of the changes in my life. Because he saw me, and listened, and touched me.

What if this time isn’t real, either?

Feel like I’m going crazy. Have to do something to take my mind off Seth. So I call Cassie. She’s been texting me, although not as often as in the past. She’s wary of me, not sure where I stand.

Me neither.

We meet at a coffee shop near the university for lunch. Again she’s dressed in jogging pants, a hoodie and running shoes. With her blond hair in a tight ponytail and no make-up on, she looks unfamiliar.

Pretty, but not impressively so. Kinda sweet and childish-like, with her large blue eyes and pouty mouth.

She gives me a smile, and I smile back.

“Going running?” I nod at her choice of clothes. “I thought you weren’t working at that sports shop anymore.”

“I’m not.” She slides into the seat across from me and puts her bag down with a sigh. “Got a job at a gym downtown.”

“Nice.” I shake my head. “Why don’t you major in something related to sports or athletics if you like them so much, girl?”

I know money isn’t the problem. Her family is well off.

“Nah. Not in a hurry to decide what to do with my life. Or discussing it with my family.”

Family may be the problem, though. From the things she’s told me—few and in between—they don’t get along much. Never thought it might be a reason she hasn’t gone to college.

Maybe it’s not. Maybe taking your time to find out what you really want to do with your life isn’t a bad plan, after all. I had mine mapped out since I was twelve, and where did that take me?

Not where I thought, that’s for sure. And right now, I’m not sure that deviating from that path I’d set for myself is a bad thing. The classes are interesting, the prospects fascinating, and meeting Seth was…

Crap, no. Stop thinking about him for five minutes. Take a break.

“So, you and Fred good? Any romantic plans for the weekend?”

“Me and Fred are done.” I watch her eyes narrow. She isn’t surprised. “You knew this would happen, didn’t you?”

She shrugs. “You didn’t sound like you were really in love with him. Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I whisper. God, did everyone know before I did?

“And what about Seth?”

“God, Cass, let me catch my breath, okay?”

She wags a finger at me, grinning. “I knew it. You want him. Can’t hide from me.”

I can’t, can I? “I don’t know what to do.”

“Go drag him to your bed and screw like bunnies. There you go. Anything else I can help you with?” She winks.

Christ. I smother a laugh under my hand. “Cass.”

“Don’t go all virtuous virgin on me now. I bet you’ve done it already with Sethy, haven’t you?”

Oh boy. Familiar heat suffuses my face. Yeah, no way to hide.

“Yes!” She punches the air triumphantly.

“Cass, what if the one I want isn’t good for me?”

“Define good.”

“He’s a bad boy.”

“Don’t let tattoos or that attitude fool you, girl. Look deeper.”

Right. And look at this, Cassie giving me love advice.

“Fred is an artist,” I mutter. “We connected that way.”

“And Seth isn’t?”

“He is. He draws like nobody I’ve ever seen, but it’s not the same. The conversations I had with Fred…”

“… you can keep having them with Fred. You can have others with Seth. Why not? Doesn’t he have interests?”

“He does.” Like herpetology, and who knows what else? “Won’t he be annoyed that I’m going to college and he isn’t? Won’t he feel, I don’t know… inadequate or something?”

“Will he? Does he give you that impression?”

“No.” Crap, not at all. He’s so supportive it’s hard to believe it. “I don’t know, Cass. I hardly know him.”

“So get to know him. Are you done protesting and trying to deny what you feel?”

That shocks a laugh out of me. “Is that what I’m doing?”

“Hell, yeah. You’re shooting this thing down before it even takes off.”

She’s right. I am. “What if he’s not really interested in me?”

“You kidding me, right?” She reaches out, puts her hand over mine. “Trust me, girl, that boy has been staring at you for months now. He’s been eating you up with his eyes. He wants you, badly.”

There’s a lump in my throat. “Really?”

“Cross my heart.”

“Okay. And now he’s had me. What if that was all he wanted?”

“Did he say that?” Cass frowns. “That he doesn’t want more?”

It’s not normal that she can read me so well. Is she psychic?

“Something like that.”

“Damn.”

Yeah. “And the worst is that…” I swallow. “I want more. I realize that now. With him. All the things you said—about wanting to kiss him, touch him, spend time with him… just lie in bed with him, or talk with him… I want all that. With Seth.”

Saying it out loud makes it so real it hurts.

“There’s something I want to admit, too.” Cassie taps her fingers on the table, and her mouth twists. “About Jesse.”

“I thought you told me everything? About feeling you and Jesse were so similar. About protecting Amber. What else is there?”

She chews on the inside of her cheek. “Damn, I told you all that, huh?”

“Were they lies?”

“Hell no.” She sighs. “I told you the truth. But that’s not all.”

“Seriously, Cass.” I find myself leaning forward, curious in spite of myself. “I’m afraid to ask.”

“It’s just that…” She leans back in her chair. “I don’t really want Jesse. Never did.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“I know. I fooled everyone, I think. Including the one I wanted to fool. Didn’t realize the joke was on me.”

“What are you talking about? You’re saying…” I wet my lips. “Who?”

She smiles but her lower lip trembles. “Someone who doesn’t want me. Who only talks to me if he has to. Who now thinks I’m a dirty slut.”

Christ. “You want one of the boys. The Damage Boys.”

She nods. “That’s right.”

“And why…?” I shake my head, confused. “Why fool him? Why pretend you want another?”

“Because like I said, he doesn’t want me. He’s so distant with me, not letting me even touch him. My pride was hurt. I was pretending I didn’t give a damn. But I do. And I’ve gone and fucked it up even worse.”

“The guys are easy-going. Can’t imagine anyone so uptight they wouldn’t let you touch them, well, at least before you went and kissed Jesse and got them all riled up. Except for Shane, I…”

Her expression shifts to horror, and my heart sinks.

“It’s Shane, isn’t it?” When she nods, I rub my eyes.

God.

He sure is handsome, but as distant as the stars. He’s, like, trapped behind a wall of ice. The few times I stood near him I barely heard a word come out of his mouth. Tall, dark and mysterious—the exact opposite of Cass, the loud and flirty blond bombshell.

Who’s now looking at me like a lost little girl, her eyes wide and sad.

What do I say? You screwed up, Cass, real bad… If you ever stood a chance with Shane before, now it’s all over?

“I screwed up, right?” she asks, and yeah, she did.

But she’s my friend, and nobody died, so I guess it’s time I proved I’m her friend, too.

“We all screw up from time to time, Cass. It’ll be okay, you’ll see.” I smile and she gives me a watery smile back. “And if Shane didn’t notice you before, well now you sure have his attention, right?”

“Damn, you’re right.”

She laughs, a strangled sound, and I laugh, too. People stare as we giggle uncontrollably, wiping at our eyes. Too much tension, too much drama. Too many feelings. And we laugh and laugh, weeping, letting it out.

“I’ll tell Seth,” I gasp after a while, sitting up straighter. “How I feel.”

Cassie nods, rubbing her hands over her face. “You do that.”

Too many half-lies and untruths, too many ambiguities. If there’s one thing Cassie’s story tells me is that I need to come clean.

No matter how much the thought of his rejection scares me.

***

Still, I put off talking to him. My excuse is the new classes, the notes I have to bum off people I hardly know, my meetings with professors to let them know about myself and why I suddenly appeared in their classrooms. Show them my transfer papers. See what I need to catch up on.

Need to call my mom, tell her about this new turn in my life.

But I put that off as well. One thing at a time, right? Get settled into this new timetable, talk to Seth, and then my mom.

As it turns out, though, it’s not any of them I talk to first. It’s Fred.

He calls as I climb into my car after doing the rounds of the professors and lecturers, and I answer without even checking the caller ID.

“Madeline?” He sounds unsure, which is unlike Fred, but I know his voice too well. “Hello?”

I still. Everything around me stills. A wave of anger and sadness rises inside my chest. “Hey.”

“How are you doing? Haven’t heard from you lately.”

“Yeah. Been busy. You know, changing my studies, like I told you. Letting the system win. Giving up. Turns out giving up is an exhausting process.”

Okay, I’m being a bitch, but he’s a lying cheat, so we’re not even close to getting even.

“Gosh, Madeline. I didn’t mean it that way, and you know it. The giving up part.”

“Do I?” I grip the steering wheel with one hand. “There’s a lot I don’t know, apparently. Like the fact that you won’t kiss me, but have no trouble whatsoever kissing the busty blonde I saw you with a few days ago.”

Good lord, was it just a few days ago?

“You saw… Oh, Madeline. Shit.”

“Yeah, that’s right. Shit.”

A pause. I think he’s swearing, but I can’t make out the words. I prepare to hang up. So much for explanations.

He clears his throat. “Hey, can we meet? I need to talk to you.”

“We are talking.” And I’m not sure I want to see him.

“Please, Madeline. I swear I can explain this. You mean a lot to me.”

Bullshit. He’s a frigging liar.

Then why do I hesitate? Why don’t I just send him to hell?

“Please,” he says again. “Can’t do this over the phone. Are you at the university?”

“Yes.”

“Meet you at Steep and Brew? I can be there in ten minutes.”

“Fine.”

I’ll go. If only to look him in eye when I say goodbye.

***

The coffee shop is full. It’s a favorite stop for students, and it’s lunch time, so I have to wade through the crowded place, looking for Fred.

In my mind’s eye, I see the kiss he shared with the blonde on repeat and anger is like a jagged rock in my chest.

Coming here was a mistake. I stop, turn around. He has no excuse for what he did, no excuse I’d accept. What an asshole. He treated me badly and Seth… Seth taught me I deserve better.

My pulse is racing. Yes, this was a mistake. Who cares what Fred has to say for himself? I don’t care. I only want to see Seth, hide in his arms, feel his heart beat against mine.

“Madeline! Back here.”

Crap.

Sighing, I turn, and there is Fred, waving at me from a table. He even has a cup for me, and I know as I approach it’s my favorite, pumpkin spice coffee.

I should be touched or something, but I’m only annoyed. Annoyed he decided to start being thoughtful now, annoyed by his blue eyes and wide smile, his black-rimmed glasses. By all the things I used to find adorable.

But I’m also glad to see him. How screwed up is that?

Sitting down, I wrap my cold hands around the mug and try to sort through my feelings. “Hi, Fred.”

He beams at me, but when I don’t return the smile, he frowns. “You’re really upset with me, aren’t you?”

“What do you think?”

“Yeah. Right. I get it.”

“Do you?” I inhale the aroma of the spiced coffee and try to relax. “You hurt me. You lied to me. Why?”

God, I want to know. I may not have real feelings about him—not as intense and deep as I do for Seth—but he’s my friend. Or was. I thought we shared a connection. An understanding.

“Look,” Fred says and pushes his mug away, still full. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. I really am. Sorry that I wasn’t one hundred percent honest.”

“Or at all?” I glare at him. “Seriously.”

“Okay. Fine. Look, I just wasn’t sure.”

“About what? Me?”

“No. Good God, no.”

“Then?”

He sends me a strained smile, and I have no clue what this is about. “About me. Myself. What I want.”

“Jesus, Fred. Spit it out.”

He winces. “I thought maybe… maybe I like guys.”

My mouth is hanging open. I really didn’t see this one coming. Or rather, never let my mind consider it, because this is Fred. The guy every girl on campus wants.

“Okay.” With an effort, I restart my frozen brain. “Brandon? Your practice buddy. He the one you like?”

“Yeah.” He gives me a sheepish look. “But I didn’t want to say anything without being sure. I wanted to try with girls, too.”

Girls. Other girls. Not me.

“I didn’t want to use you as an experiment,” he goes on. “You’re too nice for that.”

I appreciate the sentiment, but I don’t appreciate the fact he was sleeping around to determine what he really liked without telling me.

“And what is your conclusion?” I mutter.

“Christ, you make it sound so cold. Like a clinical experiment.”

Well, I am still angry. “Just tell me.”

“I think I like both, but girls more.”

Okay. “And what about the blonde?”

“I only saw her a couple of times. There’s nothing going on.”

Jesus. Even if I believed that…

“Madeline. Would you give me another chance?”

It takes me about half a second to decide.

“I’m sorry. No. I can’t.” I feel slightly guilty, because deep inside I’m pretty sure I never really wanted him that way, either. “You’re a great guy, Fred. I hope we can still be friends.”

And the funny thing is, I really mean this.

“I see.” He groans, rakes a hand through his sandy hair. “I screwed up. You found someone else, didn’t you?”

I bite my lip, not sure I want to mention Seth. Not when I don’t even know what we have. “Being friends with me can’t be so bad.”

“No, it’s not.” He huffs and smiles. “Friends. Sure, why not? We can try that.”

My mind’s still reeling from his revelation. I’m oddly proud of him for having the courage to tell me about it—can’t have been easy—even though I’m still angry that he tested his theory on other random girls.

But above all, for the first time since I saw him with that blonde and my world imploded, I’m really happy to see him.

***

I park in a street behind Damage Control and check my hair in the rearview mirror before I get out of the car.

Ridiculous, I know. The thought of seeing Seth gets me all excited and bouncy. I miss him, and it’s only been a few hours since seeing him this morning. I think of his mouth, his eyes, his chest, his hands, every part of him, and a thrill skates down my spine.

As I walk toward the shop, I see him standing outside, leaning against the façade, smoking, and my heart stops.

Oh my God. The weak sunshine gilds his face, catches on his thick lashes, turns his dark hair to polished mahogany. He turns his head to the side to blow a cloud of smoke and I can’t help but stare at the way his sweater stretches across his broad chest and those muscular shoulders.

How is this possible? He’s more handsome every time I see him. Not fair.

He looks up as I approach and that devil-may-care grin spreads over his face, making me so hot I think I’ll just melt at his feet.

“Hey, you,” he rasps, and I realize I stopped in my tracks, mouth hanging open.

“Hey, I…” I stop again when a couple approaches from the street, his hair a dazzling gold, hers a dark counterpoint.

Seth lifts a hand in greeting. “Micah, my man. Ev.”

I recognize them now, too.

“Saw you with Fred at Steep and Brew,” Ev says, nodding at me. “I was waving at you, but you didn’t see us.”

I open my mouth, close it.

“With Fred?” Seth’s voice is flat, kind of breathless. “Today?”

“Looked cozy together,” Micah rumbles, drawing Ev to his side. “He’s your boyfriend, right?”

“Dammit,” Seth mutters, throws his cigarette away and stalks into the shop.

Leaving me to stare at the spot he occupied two seconds ago.

What. The. Hell.

“What’s gotten up his ass?” Micah frowns at the closed door. “That was fucking weird.”

Ev is looking at me, eyes narrowed. “Didn’t know there was something going on between you two.”

Oh God. Seth thinks I’m back together with Fred.

“What you need to know is that there’s nothing going on between me and Fred,” I snap. “We’re just friends.”

She nods at the shop. “Better tell him that, then.”

Yeah. Drawing a long, steadying breath, I march into Damage Control to tell Seth what happened between me and Fred, and how I feel about him.

I expect him to be at the reception desk or in one of the booths, sullenly silent as I explain everything.

What I don’t expect is to find him cornered, with Zane in his face hissing something about a rap sheet and drugs.

Drugs? Oh holy crap.

The blood leaves my head, and I sway a little as I approach them, needing to hear it all, even if I don’t really want to. Even if I’m not sure I’ll be able to hear anything over the deafening sound of my heart breaking to a thousand pieces.

Chapter Nineteen

Seth

“When were you gonna tell me, fucker? About your rap sheet? About the drug charges?” Zane’s voice is a low growl that has my hackles up. “Possession, and possibly trafficking. What the fuck, Seth?”

He’s crowding me in, pushing me into the wall, and I don’t even fucking care because all I can think is that he found out.

How the hell? Why?

“You.” Zane jabs a hard finger into my chest. His teeth are bared. “I let you and Shane into my family. My gang. Let you hang around the clients. Around Tyler and Asher’s kids, dammit. Are you still using? Are you dealing drugs, fucker?”

“Fuck, no. I don’t deal drugs, never—”

He shoves me into the wall, and something in my bad shoulder twists painfully. “Why should I believe you? Once a liar, always a fucking liar.”

“Z-man.” Ocean is tugging on Zane’s hoodie. “Whatcha doing? There are customers.”

“Fuck.” Zane doesn’t move, still in my face. “You should have told me,” he hisses and steps back.

“You wouldn’t have believed me if I had, any more than you do now,” I snarl back.

That’s when I notice them. Micah, Ev, Jesse.

And Christ, Manon. She’s right there, next to Tyler, her mouth pressed thin.

“You should have told me,” she whispers, her eyes welling up. “God, you should have told me.”

She claps a hand over her mouth, spins on her heel and runs out.

“Fuck.” I knock my head back on the wall, barely feeling it. “Christ.”

“What’s going on here?” Tyler looms behind Zane, his dark eyes fixed on me. “Believe what?”

I swallow hard. “That Shane and I had nothing to do with it. That we were innocent.”

“The judge thought differently,” Zane says grimly.

I shift against the wall, my shoulder weirdly numb, like my head. “We were set up.”

“Yeah? By who?”

“My mother and her new husband. They were the ones dealing the fucking drugs.”

“Why would she do that to you?”

“Because she’s a selfish bitch, that’s why!” I don’t know why I’m still fighting, after all this time, after nobody has believed me, ever. Who would believe my own mother set me up? Probably wouldn’t believe it myself if I heard it from someone else. “She watched as her man broke my bones, then they grabbed their bags and left, calling the police to come pick me up.”

“Why would she do such a thing?” Tyler asks, leaning in over Zane’s shoulder.

“Because I was stupid.” I have to swallow again, the lump in my throat not going away. “I threatened to call in the cops if she didn’t stop. If she didn’t keep spending all the money she got from social services on heroin and crack and her boyfriend’s booze. If she didn’t run a goddamn drug cartel from our house. Shit.”

Can’t breathe. Don’t know what this is. It’s not fear or panic. It’s an overwhelming sadness that crushes my chest and won’t let my lungs work.

“Rafe was trying to get you a job,” Zane is saying, his voice a distant buzz. “To help you out, fucker. That’s how he found out.”

“Sorry,” I wheeze, wondering what this is—if I’m having a heart attack or something. Aren’t I too young? “For everything.”

“Fuck.” Zane stomps away from me, and I look into Tyler’s hard face.

“Go home,” he tells me. “Stay put. Zane’s pissed, but he’s a fair guy. He’ll look into this.”

Yeah, right. Whatever. Why the hell would he? My rap sheet says it all. I’m guilty. I’m an ex-con. Manon’s gone. Damage Control is gone. All I hoped for is gone up in smoke.

It’s all over for me. Didn’t know the end would come so soon, but like they say—when it rains, it pours.

Story of my life.

***

Gathering my jacket, I limp across Damage, heading to the exit.

The walk of shame. Everyone heard what Zane said, what I said. Tyler, Jesse, Micah, Ev, Ocean.

Didn’t think I’d feel ashamed for something I didn’t do. Something that was beyond my control, but Zane’s words cut deep.

I lied to him. Yeah, I did. To protect Shane. To protect myself. But I get where Zane is coming from. He said it to my face. This is his family, people he swore to protect, and my covering up of the truth put them—and his shop—at risk.

What the hell am I gonna do now? My mind’s numb as I step outside and a shiver wracks me. My shoulder aches dully, but it’s nothing serious, I can tell. The pain matches the ache in my head.

Work, that’s all I can fucking do. Try to save up enough for the rent, and look into a cheaper place, like I’ve been meaning to do. It’s time to move on, try to salvage what I have: a roof over my head, food in my mouth.

Shit, Manon… The look on her face, the disbelief, the horror. That shouldn’t hurt so much, not as much as losing Damage and the family I had there—because goddammit, it was my family, too—but it does. Twists inside me like a knife, scrapes against my heart.

Can’t think about her now, or I’ll break down right here, in the middle of the fucking street.

I board the bus, walk back to my apartment, hands in the pockets of my jacket. At least I can walk, I think, despite the limp, and almost cackle out loud at my pathetic attempt to keep my sanity.

What good is walking when I have to crawl?

I climb the stairs to my apartment, one slow step after another, massaging my shoulder. Pulling my key out, I unlock the door, step into my apartment.

My apartment.

A year ago, those two words wouldn’t have fit together. I lived in an alley, and my belongings consisted of a filthy sleeping bag and a Thermos someone gave me. Can’t lose this. It was easier when I had no hope.

I take a leak, stare at my scowling expression in the mirror, look into my bedroom, at the stacks of sci-fi and romances. Happy endings. Maybe that’s the problem. I read so many of those books while in bed I thought I’d get a happy ending, too, but I guess that’s for fictional characters, not for the likes of me.

This shit’s real. Real fucking life.

Someone’s pounding on my door. Shit. I hobble through the living room and check the peep hole. Not taking any chances.

A guy’s looming outside, darkening my doorway.

Shane.

Heaving a sigh of relief, I open the door and step back to let him in. “Hey, man.”

With a blast of cold air, he follows me inside, draws his fist back and drives it into my gut. “Fuck you, Seth.”

I stumble back, try to get my footing—and miss. I tumble to the floor, land weird, right on my bad shoulder. Something cracks. I wonder if it’s a bone.

A moment of stillness, then the blinding pain hits. I struggle to draw breath, bile rising in my throat as the fire shoots from my shoulder down my arm and my back, reaching into my stomach and twisting it.

Shane’s talking. Something about betraying his trust, about being an asshole who dragged him into all of this.

He’s right. I did this to him. He got into prison for me, and now he may lose everything, again because of me.

“They sent me home,” Shane says. “It wasn’t your goddamn place to tell them about me, Seth.”

I try to explain, try to draw enough breath and force it past my gritting teeth to form words. “Rafe. Didn’t tell.”

“What the fuck ever,” Shane mutters and turns to go. “Stay away from me.”

“Shane.” It comes out as a wheeze, barely audible. “Wait.”

But he’s already out and gone.

Fuck. Me.

I’m so fucking ready for this day to be over. Clutching my arm, I roll to get up, the pain making me dizzy, sending pretty black spots dancing in my vision.

Would this be all for today, life? Are we done?

Of course not. Why would I think I could get off so easy?

“Mr. Tucker.” My landlord is standing at the still wide-open door, waving a piece of paper at me. “If you’re done rolling on the floor, I suggest you pack your things and go.”

What? I squint at him and the fucking paper. “What’s that?”

“That’s your eviction notice. I posted a copy on your door two weeks ago. You still owe me half of last month’s rent, and this month’s, too. Unless of course you have the money.”

I don’t. Of course I don’t. And I can’t remember a damn notice.

What the fuck.

“Can’t move out today,” I breathe, hissing when I sit up. “You have to give me more time.”

“I’m afraid your time is up, Mr. Tucker. I have a couple who are ready to move in and gave me a deposit.”

“Damn you.” My thoughts are scattered. I do my best to make sense of it. “This is illegal.”

“And what? You’ll take me to court? Think you’ll win this?” He straightens his shirt, squares his narrow shoulders. “Think I didn’t hear what your friend here said? You got a rap sheet.”

Fucking hell.

“If you don’t get out within the hour, so help me God,” he towers over me where I’m sitting on his floor trying hard not to puke from the pain, “I’ll call your employer and let them know you’ve living here illegally, without paying your rent. That tattoo parlor, isn’t it? Damage Control, downtown.”

Jesus Christ. “Don’t. Okay? Don’t.”

“You need to move out the—”

“I’ll leave. I’m leaving.” I brace my good arm on the coffee table and drag myself up. “Christ.”

My brain’s smothered in fog, but I know Zane and Rafe can’t find out about this. They can’t. A vague idea stirs at the back of my mind, saying it doesn’t matter anymore whether they know or not, but that’s bullshit. Has to be. I can’t take the risk.

Lost too much. Can’t afford this.

I’m supposed to pack, right? Only I can’t. My arm is hanging uselessly at my side, my shoulder on fire. Sweat trickles down my face, stinging my eyes.

Not like I own much. Some clothes. Some shoes. Never really settled down, never put photos or my drawings on the walls. Never really believed it.

And where would I go? Shane hates my guts right now. Manon, too. The guys think I’m a drug dealer in disguise.

A chuckle comes unbidden, dark and bitter, and I clutch at my arm as another wave of blinding pain hits.

Fuck.

I stumble into my bedroom, grab an extra sweater and a rolled-up quilt I have for winter. It’s in a bag, and I sling it over my good shoulder.

More sweat runs down my temples as I carry my things to the living room one-handed, letting my bad arm hang limp and vibrating with pain.

The crumpled up photo of my mom with her sister, myself and Shane is on the table. I reach for it, tuck it into my pocket.

Where I’m going, I won’t need more. Wish I’d kept my sleeping bag. Didn’t think I’d be returning to hell so soon.

My mom always said that’s where I belonged, where I’d end up. On the street. Guess she was right.

***

The day is gray and cold. Wind is whistling, slicing through my jacket. I wrap my scarf around my neck and weave on my feet, because, fuck, the pain. I was warned repeated shoulder dislocation would be a problem after the first time, and this is the third. It’s nothing life-threatening. But somehow it feels worse than the other times.

Somehow everything feels worse. Like having a home and losing it. Having a job, a family, and losing them. Having… God, almost having Manon and losing her, too. I guess I never realized that this was the one thing that would break me: finally getting what I wanted and watching it go up in smoke.

Dammit.

I always assumed I’d shack up with Shane if things went south. Not that I’d be going back where I started, and this time alone.

Standing on the sidewalk, watching the cars drive by, I try to gather my scattered wits. I just need somewhere to hole up, lick my wounds, wait for the howling pain to lessen so I can think.

In the end, I work on instinct alone. I limp down some streets, across a boulevard, turn into a narrow alley with the smell of Chinese cooking and fried meat from the restaurant kitchens.

The spot where Shane and I used to sleep. Not far from the apartment. Maybe that’s why I hesitated to move away. The place’s more familiar to me than my mom’s house.

I slide down the wall and curl up, holding my arm folded over my stomach.

My shoulder’s killing me. I know that eventually I should head to an emergency room, but pain isn’t helping my brain think, and besides, now it’s too late.

Too damn late. Can’t get up again. The mere thought makes me break out in cold sweat.

Need a minute. Just a little longer, to catch my breath. Then I’ll get up and make myself go, get checked out.

It’s not that cold back here, in the alley. The warm air from the kitchens wafts out, and the smells would have made my stomach growl if not for the goddamn pain. Fuck, it’s bad. Like slivers of glass slicing into my flesh, into my joints. Cutting me up. Pouring burning sand into marrow of my bones.